


A Pair of Idiots

by Mireille



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-30
Updated: 2005-01-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 17:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8170513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: In which Angel is an idiot, and Doyle dates. No, really. Honestly. Well, sort of. 
Set in an AU S3 in which "Hero" did not happen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2005 Doyleathon, which seems to no longer be online.

"You still think you can do this alone?"

Angel looked up from his somewhat awkward-looking attempts at putting a clean diaper on Connor. "Cordelia already gave me this speech, you know."

"Which speech was that?" Doyle sat down on the arm of the chair. If Angel was going to be difficult, he was in for a long argument, and he might as well make himself at home. 

"The one about Connor needing people in his life who can go out in the sunlight. And I'll tell you the same thing I told her. If Connor needs to be taken to the hospital during the day, I'll get him there if it's the last thing I do."

"Did Cordelia give you the speech about you being an idiot, too?" Doyle grinned slightly, but he was more serious than he thought Angel probably realized. The broody-loner-man-of-mystery routine might have worked well enough before--if you called nearly being driven insane and evil by Wolfram & Hart working well, which only Angel did--but with Connor to think about, _someone_ was going to have to get through to Angel, and he'd been volunteered for the job by Cordelia, who said she'd had enough. "Because you are. Connor needs his dad, not a pile of ashes on the sidewalk. And besides, there are a lot of things he might need that you're not going to be able to help him with."

Angel scowled at him. "Whatever he needs, I can take care of."

"Oh yeah? What if he wants to wear colors that aren't various shades of black?"

"You can't seriously be suggesting that I let _you_ pick out clothes for my kid."

"Well, what if he wants to date? You were born centuries before the invention of the back row at the movie theater."

Angel's scowl deepened for a moment, and Doyle was afraid that, despite his attempt to keep the tone of the conversation light, they'd moved into "brooding about the curse." But instead, Angel just shook his head. "Like you know anything about dating."

"Hey! I date," he said, before he had a chance to stop himself.

"When?" Connor started fussing a bit, and Angel was distracted from the conversation, cuddling the baby until he quieted.

"Cordelia," Doyle said when he had Angel's attention again. 

"Two dates two years ago doesn't count. And neither does an ex-wife." 

"I date," he repeated stubbornly. 

"What did you do last weekend?" 

Doyle just looked at him for a moment, shaking his head. "Tried to help you figure out what was going on with your pregnant vampire ex-girlfriend?"

"The weekend before that, then."

He shrugged. "Saturday we had demons to kill, and Sunday…"

"You were here, watching the hockey game. And Friday night Cordelia dragged everyone to Caritas."

"Don't remind me. I'm trying to forget about the Whitney Houston medley."

"I'm trying to forget that she talked you into singing _with_ her," Angel said.

He shook his head. "You don't get to complain. Nothing is worse than _your_ singing."   
          
Angel ignored that. "So when do you date?"

"I date. And we're not talking about my social life; we're talking about how it will not make you a lousy father if you let your friends help you take care of the rugrat here." Doyle grinned down at Connor, who'd fallen asleep in Angel's arms. 

"I didn't say I thought it'd make me a lousy father."

"You didn't have to." He looked up at Angel again. "And it won't. Even if the rest of us are around, he's going to know who his dad is. And he's going to love him," he added firmly. 

"Easy for you to say," Angel said, as he put Connor into his bassinet. 

"Yeah, it's easy for me to say, because it's true, and I don't have my head stuck so far up--"

"Not in front of Connor!" 

Doyle had to laugh. "Angel, Connor isn't even a week old yet. He has no idea what I'm even saying."

"He's very intelligent," Angel said defensively.

"He's a baby. No matter how intelligent he is, he isn't going to understand that I'm insulting you."

"Yeah, okay, maybe. But one day he will, and you might as well start practicing for it now, because you're not setting a very good example."

He did honestly try to stop laughing, but he couldn't quite manage it. He did get it down to a stifled snicker, but Angel still frowned at him. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "It's just--"

Angel sighed. "I know. I have other things to worry about. Like making sure he gets the chance to grow up enough to learn bad habits from you."

"He's going to be fine. It's all going to work out, all right?"

"You don't know that. The visions don't work that way."

"Who said anything about a vision? This is genuine Allen Francis Doyle insight we're talking about here. I don't need the Powers That Be telling me that everything's going to be okay." He smiled at Angel. "We're going to take care of things. All of us. You just have to let us help. None of this weight-of-the-world-on-your-shoulders stuff."

For a long time, Angel's only response was to lean down and straighten out Connor's blankets. Then finally, he said, "I'm his dad. It's my job."

"Yeah? Well, we're all people who love Connor. And his dad. So it's our job too."

Shaking his head, Angel said, "It's not the same thing."

"No, it's not," he admitted. "But we're a lot better than nothing. Look, Darla staked herself so that this little guy could make it. I don't want some angry vampire ghost haunting me because I didn't help take care of him."

That actually got a smile out of Angel. "Well, when you put it that way--"

"You have no choice. Face it, Angel. Gunn and Wes and Fred might all back off, but between me and Cordelia, you know we're going to wear you down eventually. You might as well save the time, the arguing, and all the slamming of file-cabinet drawers that Cordelia's going to do."

"I can do it all myself," Angel argued. 

"Can? Maybe. I doubt it, but maybe. But the point is, you don't have to, and so you're just being… well, stupid."

"Stupid?"

"Yeah, stupid. Not taking advantage of the fact that there are at least five people volunteering to help you take care of Connor. You'll kick yourself for that when he's teething and he's been crying for three hours straight."

After a minute, Angel shrugged. "At least I know I won't decide I have anything more important to do." 

Doyle looked up, trying not to sound hurt as he said, "Angel, I didn't even go away when you _fired_ me. Remember?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, the visions--"

"It's not about the damn visions!" he snapped. "And if Connor needs me, I'm going to be here." More quietly, he added, "If you need me, I'm going to be here, Angel."

"Unless you have a date."

Doyle was silent for a minute. Then he shrugged. "You know what I did on my last so-called date?"

Angel grimaced. "Didn't I just say 'not in front of Connor'?"

"We sat on the couch and watched a hockey game. And I hate hockey."

"I know you do, the last time I made you watch--" Angel stopped, giving him a look. "When was this date?"

"You know, I might have been exaggerating a little when I called it a date."

Angel, unfortunately, was not to be dissuaded. "Who was it with?"

"A lot. I was exaggerating a lot. It wasn't a date at all. It was just a hockey game."

"Who are you watching hockey with besides me?" If he hadn't known better, he'd have sworn Angel sounded hurt. Or insulted. Or maybe just confused. 

Doyle just looked at him, shaking his head. "Angel? Can I tell you something, man-to-man?"

You'd have thought that he'd asked Angel to go out and lie on the beach at noon, from the look Angel was giving him. "Um. Yeah, okay."

"You're an idiot," Doyle said, walking out. Just before he closed the door, he called over his shoulder, "But don't let that screw things up for Connor, okay?"

He was halfway down the hall before he heard Angel call after him. "Doyle?"

"What?"

"Get back here. And this time, can you try not to call me an idiot?"


End file.
